Little Boy Lost
by LarielRomeniel
Summary: One-shot. Saving a younger version of a Legend leads to surprises, an identity crisis and a fluffy solution. Baby!Fic, but not the usual kind, prompted by the trailer for 1x12 "Last Refuge." T for language, mentions of child and spousal abuse.
DISCLAIMER: D.C.'s Legends of Tomorrow and its characters are the property of DC Entertainment.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The trailer for 1x12 "Last Refuge" generated a plot bunny. Here's the result. Series compliant through 1x11.

* * *

They'd already retrieved the younger versions of Mick, Sara and Jax and taken them to Refuge when Gideon announced their next stop: The evening of June 2, 1972, Keystone City.

"Kendra and I weren't even born yet, so it's not us," Ray said.

"There are only two of us it _could_ be," Sara said, looking at Stein.

He shrugged. "I was in Ivy Town, finishing my first year of postgraduate work."

"So that leaves you," Kendra said to Snart.

He was frowning. "Yeah, but Keystone City isn't right. Gideon, your information is wrong."

"The records are confirmed, Mr. Snart," Gideon replied. "Our destination is Good Samaritan Hospital, Keystone City."

Snart shook his head. "That's not right," he insisted.

"How are you so sure?" Sara asked him. "You couldn't have been more than…"

"A few hours old," Mick finished for her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked over at Snart for confirmation.

"It's the day I was born," he said with a nod. "But I was born in _Central_ City, not Keystone."

Gideon repeated, "The records are confirmed."

Rip's brow furrowed. "We can sort the confusion out later, Mr. Snart. Get ready to jump, everyone." He moved to the Captain's chair. "No matter what, we have to get there before the Pilgrim does."

* * *

Sara found herself back in a white nurse's uniform to retrieve the newborn Leonard Snart, accompanied by Rip and the adult Snart. They were also dressed as hospital personnel. Kendra, Ray, Stein and Jax took up vantage points around the hospital, watching for the Pilgrim, and Mick remained behind to defend the Waverider with Gideon.

"Are you sure we can just walk in and take a baby?"

Sara meant the question for Rip, but it was Stein who answered over the comms. "This is an era before Amber Alerts and pictures of missing children on milk cartons, Miss Lance. Hospital nurseries were on display to visitors, and it was presumed those visitors were there to _see_ the babies, not to steal them." He sighed. "It was a simpler time."

They found the nursery fairly quickly, down a darkened hallway. It was empty except for four newborn babies in bassinets. Two of them were crying.

"The poor little things!" Sara said. "Why are they all alone?"

"The nurse probably went for a coffee break," Snart said. "And the moms are probably still knocked out. My mom used to say they gave her enough drugs during my birth to take down a horse."

Sara walked over to the bassinets. "What about the dads?"

Snart laughed softly. "Probably out smoking cigars and congratulating themselves, if they're 'good' dads," he said, making air quotes. "If they're like mine…" he shrugged. "Mine wasn't even in town when I was born. He was off gambling on some floating casino, and showed up a week later. If it wasn't for my little sister, I'd want to find it and sink it right now."

"Mr. Snart, I know father issues are difficult," Rip said. "I have my own as well. But we need to get the newborn you out of here. Now, which one are you?"

Sara had been looking over all the bassinets. She looked at the men in confusion. "There's only one boy here, but the name tag doesn't say Leonard Snart." The bassinet in front of her held a squirming baby wrapped in a dark blanket, a matching cap on his head.

"Told you Gideon had it wrong," Snart said smugly. "I was born in Central City."

The AI's voice came over the comms. "The information is correct. The infant boy _is_ Leonard Snart."

"The tag says 'Baby Boy Doe,'" Sara read. She looked back up at Snart. "The parent names are blank."

Snart's face became equally blank at that. Rip stepped over to a supply counter and grabbed a cotton swab. "It's easy enough to check," he said, walking back to the bassinet. Gently, he inserted the swab into the baby's mouth. "I'll just get a genetic sample from the baby's cheek…"

He pulled the swab out and then reached into his coat pocket, drawing out an electronic tablet. He rubbed the swab on it. "And now I send this sample back to Gideon to compare with Mr. Snart's genetic sample on file."

Two images of the double helix of DNA rotated on the screen. They merged together, and the words _100% MATCH_ flashed above them.

"The information is correct," Gideon repeated. "The infant boy _is_ Leonard Snart."

"Guys," Jax's voice came through the comms, "You need to get out of there. I just spotted the Pilgrim headed to the entrance."

Rip gathered up the baby. "Meet us on the helipad on the roof!" he ordered, heading for the door.

Snart was standing with a stunned expression on his face. Sara grabbed the patient file clipboard hanging on the bassinet, and then touched his shoulder. "Len… Len! We have to go."

He blinked and nodded at her. Together, they flew out of the nursery.

* * *

The Waverider was back in the temporal zone, but that was as far as Rip dared take them. "Newborns are fragile," he said. "Time travel can be fatal for them."

Stein looked thoughtful. "What if we set up a small environmental force field?" he asked. "It could protect the baby from the effects of time travel."

 _The baby._ No one had quite been able to refer to this infant as Leonard Snart, despite the genetic proof. After their escape from the hospital, once the baby was safe in the Medbay, Snart took the clipboard from Sara and read the small amount of information on it. He stared silently at the baby for a good five minutes, and then stalked off somewhere without a word, clipboard in hand.

Sara tuned back into the conversation underway around her. "Such a force field would require an enormous amount of power," Gideon was saying. "This is why there are no such force fields for time ship crews."

"But we don't need anything big," Ray said. "Just something large enough to cover something the size of a car seat."

"That would mean a much lower power consumption curve," Stein agreed.

Rip nodded thoughtfully. "Very well. Dr. Palmer, Dr. Stein, see what you can do. In the meantime," he looked around at the remaining team members, "young Mr. Snart's needs must be tended to."

Kendra snorted. "You mean diaper duty."

"Among other things," Rip conceded.

"We ain't that kind of partners," Mick said quickly.

Jax added, "And I don't think grownup Snart would appreciate me getting to know him that way."

Kendra exchanged a look with Sara. "Why do I think it's going to be up to us?"

Sara chuckled. "I don't think they're _intentionally_ being sexist. They know we can take 'em."

Jax held his hands up in denial. Mick just smirked.

Sara continued, "So it comes down to skill sets. You've been a mom at least once before. And I survived babysitting. Twins." She grinned. "Five year old twins can be tougher than the League of Assassins." Then in a stage whisper, she added, "But I think they're just too scared to take on baby Len."

Jax looked sheepish at the laughter from Stein and Ray. Mick just kept smirking.

"All right, all right," Rip said. "In the interest of equality, I will take the first shift with our young guest." At the surprised looks from his team, he said, "I _was_ a father. I still remember my way around an infant." He looked at Sara. "Miss Lance, I suggest you find 'grownup' Mr. Snart and explain the arrangements?" The look he gave her added silently, _and make sure he's all right?_

Sara nodded and went off in search of the team's troubled crook. She was fairly certain he'd be in his usual hiding place, in the lower hold. She let her feet make some noise as she approached, so she wouldn't catch him by surprise.

He was sitting on the floor, back to the wall, the clipboard on his lap. He held it up, and in a gruff voice read aloud, "'Baby Boy Doe. Six pounds, eight ounces, 19 inches long.' Scrawny thing, wasn't I? 'Discovered by a priest in the vestibule of the Church of the Holy Innocents at five in the morning.' Now there's irony for you," he said dryly. "'Estimated age at time of discovery, two hours. Parents unknown.'" He let the clipboard drop back to his lap. "Whoever she was, the woman who gave birth to me, she couldn't be bothered to keep me even a day. And they call _me_ 'cold.'" He sighed heavily. "At least she didn't put me in a dumpster."

She sat down next to him and leaned her head back against the wall, not saying a word, just listening. She knew he was trying to sort through feelings he never wanted to admit having, so she let him process it all.

Eventually he leaned his own head back. "Did you believe in Santa Claus?"

That was a question out of far left field. "Come again?"

"Santa Claus. You know, jolly old elf, flying reindeer, breaking and entering through chimneys to leave stuff instead of taking it."

She giggled a little at that description. Typical of him to bring crime into it. "I did. My mom used to wake us up early on Christmas morning to spy on Santa through the upstairs banister. Laurel spilled the beans when I was seven, and told me that it was our dad in the Santa suit."

"My dad never dressed up as Santa. But I was a believer too," he said. "I believed in a big way. I remember one Christmas Eve, setting up the cookies and milk over by the Christmas tree, since we didn't have a chimney. I even left a carrot for the reindeer."

She arched an eyebrow. "One carrot for eight reindeer?"

He glanced over at her. "Nine. Don't forget Rudolph."

"Must have been a pretty big carrot." She nudged his shoulder a little. "What does that have to do with this?"

"I'm getting there. Indulge me," he said in his usual drawl. He paused a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was softer. "That night, my dad came home totally shitfaced, with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. He smashed the snacks for Santa and screamed at me that there wouldn't be any damned presents because there was no damned Santa Claus." The last words came out roughly.

She threaded her arm through his and rubbed it gently, silently encouraging him to get it all out. He drew in a breath before continuing.

"I found out, years later, that he'd just been passed over, _again_ , for a promotion and a raise. That was the night he started planning the job that would land him in Iron Heights for five years." He let out a sigh. "I didn't have a lot to believe in as a kid, and what I had, he shattered that night. And when Mom tried to comfort me, he just screamed at her and waved the bottle at her. I never saw him hit her until after he came back from Iron Heights. But now, looking back, I remember the bruises."

"How old were you that Christmas Eve?"

"Three. Three years old, and I already learned one fact of life: That fairy tales weren't real." He held up the clipboard. "And now it turns out everything I've ever believed about myself is a fairy tale."

Sara took the clipboard and tossed it away. She moved to kneel next to him so she could look him in the eyes. "That doesn't matter, Len."

"Sara…"

"Len. Listen to me." She grasped his hands loosely, giving him the option to pull them away. He didn't, giving her an idea of just how thoroughly rattled he was. He just watched her intently as she said, "I had a friend in school who found out she was adopted when she was 13. She reacted just like you. The news rocked her world completely and she wasn't sure who she was. She went off the rails a little bit, started hanging with the wrong crowd…"

"If this is supposed to be a pep talk, _you've_ gone off the rails a bit," he said. But the words were mild, and he still didn't pull away.

"Your turn to indulge me," she said. "My friend could have gone to a very bad place, but she realized something very important. The blood in her veins didn't determine who she was. She was defined by her own experiences and her own choices."

"Still doesn't say much for me, Canary." Just a touch of the customary Snart snark in his voice, but he still wasn't pulling away from her as he normally would.

"That's what you think," she answered. He hadn't resisted her touch yet, so she took a chance and laid one hand on his cheek. "I've been watching you _re_ define yourself with the choices you're making. You're becoming more than the little boy who survived parental abuse and time in juvenile hall, and more than the criminal who plagued Central City."

She squeezed the hand she was still holding. "It doesn't matter where you came from. What matters is where you're going."

He raised his free hand to cover the one she still had laying against his cheek. "I hope you're right, Sara."

"I hope I'm around to see where those choices take you."

He drew her over to sit next to him again, this time snugged against his side. Softly, he said, "I'd like you to be."

* * *

Mick ended up being the one to take the Pilgrim out, dispatching his former lover ("You don't want to know," he'd growled at the team when he dropped _that_ bomb on them. "And even if you did, I ain't telling.") in a battle that made his fistfight with Snart look like a ballroom dance.

Now it was time to return their younger selves to their proper places in time. Keystone City 1972 was their first stop, timed barely a minute after they'd escaped via the hospital roof. Sara carried the sleeping Baby Leo (Snart had insisted on the name) as they made their way back to the nursery.

Whoever was in charge of the nursery was still on coffee break, and no one had yet noticed that a baby was missing. Sara kissed the infant's forehead before laying him back into his bassinet.

"Gee, our first kiss, and I'm not even able to appreciate it," Snart quipped. He leaned over the bassinet and whispered to the baby, "It's not where you've been, kid, it's where you're going." He looked up at Sara and winked.

Sara looked wistfully at the tiny boy. "I hate to leave him alone."

"It's not the first time, and it won't be the last," he said without rancor. "That nurse will have to finish her coffee break sometime soon. We have to go."

They froze at the sound of heels clicking in the hallway, drawing closer. "Our timing is perfect as usual," he said. "We should've worn our hospital gear."

"In here," Sara said, pulling him toward the storage closet on one side of the room. They stepped inside, leaving the door barely cracked open so they could peer through. It was a tight fit. Sara's back was pressed against Snart's chest, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.

The heels belonged to a pregnant woman wearing a light raincoat. She looked around furtively as she ducked into the room.

Snart's grip tightened reflexively. Sara craned her head around to look at him curiously, and saw a stunned expression on his face for the second time in as many days. He leaned down to whisper into her ear, "That's my mom."

Sara's eyes widened, and she looked back to stare at the woman who was inspecting the bassinets, reading the cards on each one. She had long dark hair, sallow skin and a face that seemed too thin for her pregnant body. She stopped in front of little Leo's bassinet. She reached down to let the newborn's tiny hand curl around her finger.

"Ooh, you're a strong little one, aren't you, you poor little sweetheart," she cooed. "I saw the story on the news. Left all alone, in a church. I came as fast as I could, because you have to be the answer to my prayers."

Sara could feel Snart take in a quiet, deep breath behind her. She reached up to touch the hand gripping her left shoulder, and he grasped it like he was grabbing a lifeline while they listened to his mother, talking to the baby in a sweet voice, telling a story that made Sara's heart ache while Snart's breath shuddered out.

"You see, I can't tell Lewis that I lost his baby months ago while he was away in Vegas," his mother was saying. "Thinking I was pregnant was the only thing that kept him from hurting me." She caressed the baby's little face. "But if I give him a sweet, beautiful boy like you, everything will be all right and he'll love me again. And we will love you so, so much. You'll see."

The woman began to hum a lullaby as she removed the raincoat, revealing padding that made her look pregnant. Without it, her body matched the thinness of her face. She stuffed some of the padding into a hamper near the nursery door. The part she kept, she shook out, revealing a blue baby blanket. Then she walked back to the bassinet and picked up Baby Leo, wrapping him in the blanket and cuddling him to her breast. "Let's go home, my sweet boy," she said.

She resumed humming as she walked out of the nursery, to set Baby Leo on a path that would turn him into a criminal, a survivor, a legend. But for the moment, that legend was just a man with a trembling grip on Sara's hand.

He kept that grip as they stepped back out of the storage closet, just shifting it for comfort as she turned to look at him. His expression made her think the contact was all that was keeping him in control of his emotions. Knowing how he hated to lose control, she let him hold on.

Eventually, he released her hand. "We need to go," he said in a strained voice. She nodded, and followed him back home to the Waverider.

Hours later, after they'd dropped the rest of their younger selves off, she found him in the lower hold again, on the floor again, looking at that damned clipboard again. He didn't speak until she sat next to him again.

"I had Gideon look it up," he said. "Apparently I was a Keystone City headline for two days. First, for being abandoned in a church in the first place, and then for vanishing from the hospital. The police and social workers apparently decided my mother changed her mind about giving me up." He glanced over at her. "And the hospital canned that nurse with the endless coffee break." After a shared smirk, he went on, "But the next day, a political scandal in the Keystone City P.D. knocked the 'Holy Innocent' out of the news cycle."

"Holy Innocent? You?"

"No one is more shocked about it than I. Some reporter named Perry White thought I should be named for the church." He fell silent for a moment, looking pensive. "It took me years to realize that my mom wasn't good at reality. She went through life as if she was playing scenes in a movie, to escape what was really going on. It's probably why I believed in Santa so hard. I've been trying to imagine how she was able to fool Lewis into thinking she was still pregnant for all that time."

She noted that he said _Lewis_ instead of _my dad_. "She must have had a lot of guts."

"Or a lot of fear," he countered. "Of course, it helped that he was stupid as a post. All he had going for him was being mean. I can't imagine how she ever loved him. Although, I admit I did, for a couple of years. Until that Christmas Eve."

He leaned his head back against the wall. "I can't even be mad at her for all of it, you know? Every time she made a promise about how things would be, she really believed it was true. And if she hadn't taken me from the hospital, I'd have wound up in the foster care system. I met a lot of those system kids in juvie, and not one of them has a ghost of a chance of becoming a hero. Or a legend."

They sat in contemplative silence. Then he said, "I didn't thank you for taking care of me."

She smiled at him. "Anything to spare you from having Jax change your diapers."

He let his head back to laugh at that, an unguarded expression of mirth she'd never seen from him before. Once the laughter had passed, he shook his head and looked at her again, a ghost of a smile playing about his lips. "I meant _this_ me. But thanks for taking care of Leo, too." He kissed her forehead, just as she had done before with his infant self. "There. Our second kiss. Hope _you_ were able to appreciate it."

She grinned and made a waggling _so-so_ motion with her hand. He smirked and put an arm around her shoulders so she could snuggle against his side once again. "I'd ask you if you want to see whether the third time really is the charm," he said, "but…"

"I'm not going to take advantage of you when you're all emotionally vulnerable," she said with a smile. "Captain Cold is getting all slushy."

That drew another real laugh. "I was actually thinking that this isn't the place." He gave her a little squeeze. "You deserve better than that, Sara."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "So do you. And maybe someday you'll actually believe that."

"Hmmmm," was his only answer as he laid his cheek against her hair. To her surprise, he began to hum softly.

It was his mother's lullaby.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Updated to correct dates for show canon. Reviews are love.


End file.
